(Just as I’m coming down a hill, my car makes an odd noise and slows to a stop. I manage to get my car to the shoulder and try to get the gas going, but no luck. I see that there is a police officer nearby, so I put on the emergency flashers and go out to ask him if he can offer any kind of assistance.)

Me: “Officer, I—”

Cop: “You can’t park there.”

(I’m slightly baffled as to why he thought I am voluntarily parked there, as my emergency flashers are clearly on and I am visibly panicking and near tears.)

Me: “I’m sorry, I had no idea there would be a parade. I was only passing through when my car broke down—”

Cop: “You’re going to have to drive it around that corner down there. There’s a parking lot a ways down.”

Me: “…Sir, my car broke down. I can’t drive it.”

Cop: “Well, you can’t park there.”

Me:*nearly crying, and getting angry* “Sir, I can’t help that my car broke down. I can’t drive it. I was wondering if—”

Cop: “Well, get in, start it, and put it in drive. You can’t be parked here. The parade’s coming through soon.”

Me: “Sir, I already told you, I can’t drive it. I hit the accelerator and it doesn’t go.”

Cop: “Well, you’ll have to move. I already told you you can’t park there.”

(Fortunately, a couple of wonderful gentlemen came by at that point, saw that I was panicked, and pushed my car a few blocks away to a parking lot where I could leave it until I could get a tow and a ride.)